From Sarah Leamy, one of the editors and founders of GQL. Spring 2023, Updates and Calls for Submissions Hello Friends, First off, HOW ARE YOU? Are you surviving the cold? I’ve been lucky enough to work from Baja California, Mexico this winter and I almost feel a bit guilty as I watch the news and… Continue reading Spring 2023 Newsletter
Category: GenderQueer Literature
Art, essays, and articles focused on life outside the usual old school gender roles.
Faceless by Allyson Nguyen.
Faceless and hidden I walk forever and anon To a nameless and unseen fate Fighting through gusts, —no, maelstroms— in these storms of hateful, biting sand and baneful, boiling rain I daily embark —nay, continue— on this journey of dreadful paths and vengeful wraiths. BIO: Well, I'm a transfemme poet with lots of queer things… Continue reading Faceless by Allyson Nguyen.
I’ve Never Seen his Face
By R.L. Merrill. I’ve never seen his face But I know him implicitly He laughs at dick jokes And innuendo explicitly. He sends me to giggling And distracts me with a look The closest I’ve come to finding him Was in the pages of a book. He’s a rebel, he’s obnoxious He’s probably out of… Continue reading I’ve Never Seen his Face
Poems by Joshua Merchant
Outside sounds like the family of cardinals- or the grief of lightening we survive together and still mundane- the walks from home. the movies. grocery store or dinner table. the vastness of it all. the field of horses behind my apartment that bring me to a pause. can’t see the face but I know something… Continue reading Poems by Joshua Merchant
Eeriness of divulgence
by Alaro Basit. “I will save the feral in you some space to trot. I will mow it a lawn in my orchard & carve a seat out of your flaws. Side by side with your glitches I shall sit like I’ve always did —not to judge nor applaud you”, these were the words scurried from my buccal on the last… Continue reading Eeriness of divulgence
By Cameron Finch The dream goes like this: I am standing in a kitchen, standing at the sink. The world is dark outside, morning or night. Over the sink, I am holding a knife, a startling chef knife for chopping very fine onions or apples. Always the knife is arranged horizontally, as if I’m restraining… Continue reading Sublingua